Above this Roof was a Hut
by HaxeOrdinary
Summary: Complete. Chapter 14. Alternate future. After saving each other from their possible demises, Sydney and Weiss must deal with the hardest decisions of their lives. SydWeiss. R&R, please!
1. The mission

Disclaimer: Of course, normal disclaimers apply. I don't own anything from here on out nor could I. Alias belongs to J.J. Abrams and ABC and Bad Robot and none of these people are me.  
  
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Sydney was missing.  
  
It wasn't the first time the exact same information had stopped the very beating of his heart, but this time seemed to create a deep throb in his chest that wouldn't go away. "Sydney's missing?" He wanted to make sure Jack wasn't speaking a foreign language.  
  
"Yes, she is. She and Sark were fighting at a bank in Zurich which neither of them exited to meet their extraction teams."  
  
"So they're in the bank still?"  
  
"One would think but the team explored it from top to bottom and they didn't find her. No one knows she was there. The team was one that I set up. I felt that it was in the best interest of my daughter to not let anyone know. I need you to get her back because I can't."  
  
He was feeling sick to his stomach. "Which arm's supposed to tingle when you're going to have a heart attack? Because if it's left, I'm doomed."  
  
"Look, you're going to have to put your feelings on hold for my daughter. She needs someone to be level headed to go find her."  
  
"And you're intrusting me?"  
  
"Why shouldn't I?"  
  
"It's not like you've shown any appreciation for your daughters... friends over the years. The male friends, at least."  
  
Jack cleared his throat and their conversation ceased as they watched a fellow agent pass and enter the conference room. "While that may be true, I like the fact that you came to me and told me your true feelings."  
  
"Yeah, about that, didn't you threaten Danny when he did the same thing?"  
  
Jack smiled and patted the younger agent on the shoulder to dismiss the question. "You need to go talk to him." Jack motioned to the conference room and watched the younger man, his heart stolen by Sydney, leave his line of vision.  
  
This one wasn't like the others. This one was persistent. This one was different.  
  
~&~&~&~&~  
  
The lone agent in the room had been his best friend for years. If anyone understood what he had to do without too many specifics, a best friend would. "Hey, I'm going to be gone for a few days. A mission."  
  
His friend turned a wary face toward him. "Where to?"  
  
He had to think fast. "Brazil. A contact's acting a little weird. I thought I'd check it out."  
  
"Oh. See you when you get back? Hey, maybe you, me and Sydney can go out when you do. If she's here, I mean."  
  
He swallowed, compartmentalizing his true feelings. "Of course, see you then."  
  
"Can't wait. I miss you guys when you're gone. You're always there for me. And, of course, Syd's, well Syd. There seems to be a void when she's not around. Anyway, you have to go. Later, Weiss."  
  
"'Bye, Mike." Eric left the conference room, thankful to be away from the scrutiny of Michael Vaughn's intense stare.  
  
He glanced to where Jack was standing. The man truly loved his daughter and had entrusted Eric with finding her. Eric truly loved Jack's daughter, too.  
  
A/N: Was the twist a surprise or did you see it coming? Sorry to all S/V and Sarkney fans out there but I have to support all the S/W fanatics. Let me know what you think! 


	2. I don't want to hear anymore

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Disclaimers: Same apply.  
  
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"Sark? Are you dead?"  
  
"Are you?" His British accent had a hint of a smile in it but Sydney couldn't be sure in the complete darkness. "I think you knocked my brain loose with that last kick."  
  
"A compliment? Since when did you start giving compliments?" She rested her throbbing head on her hand and tried to look in the general direction of Sark's voice.  
  
"Since now, apparently."  
  
"Where do you think we are?" Sydney heard Sark move his legs and then his very audible groan. "What's wrong?"  
  
"I think I broke some ribs when I fell. But your guess is as good as mine."  
  
"What?"  
  
"As to where we are."  
  
"Oh." Sydney massaged her wrist and felt the twinge of a sprain. It was better than being broken again, that was certain. The fall had definitely rung her bells but thankfully the darkness was total in the van they were in. She now wished that she hadn't pushed Sark through the window that had looked down on the story below in the bank.  
  
The fall would have been bad enough, but the meeting of Underworld thugs that was going on in the room that they fell in weren't happy. Apparently, Sark had received the bulk of abuse before they were thrown into the van at the back of the bank.  
  
"I guess what they say about sibling rivalry runs true."  
  
Sydney was ripped from her glazed-over thoughts. What had he just said? "What are you rambling about? You must have a head injury."  
  
"Agent Bristow, Sydney, I am your brother."  
  
"Sark, you're so full of crap! I'm sick of your mind games."  
  
She heard him move again and groan. "Why would you think that your mother would make me her second-in-command at such a young age?"  
  
"Because you don't care about innocent people, you're evil, and are willing to do everything she asks?"  
  
He chuckled and answered, "As true as that may be, it is because she has been training me since practically birth."  
  
"Shut up, Sark."  
  
"I don't care if you choose not to believe me. That doesn't change the truth."  
  
"Well then, if I'm to believe you, who's your father?"  
  
"It was Lazarey."  
  
"Oh, right."  
  
"Mother informed me, not too long ago, that she had loved him before she was place on assignment with your father. She went back to Lazarey and thus is me. She made sure he set up the generous trust for me as well."  
  
"The one that now's funding the Covenant?"  
  
"The one and only."  
  
&~*~&~*~  
  
Eric arrived in Zurich just as the sun was setting. The flight had been long but his emotions kept his blood pumping which would be a strong advantage for a while. He had quite a few contacts in Switzerland that now seemed like his close, personal friends, or at least they would be when he was done and flying home with Sydney.  
  
&~*~&~*~  
  
The news Sark had dropped on her minutes early was making her pulse feel like a hammer at all of her pressure points.  
  
"Growing up, I hated everything about your country."  
  
She didn't want him to tell her anything else. She wanted to be home. Talking with Eric over a pizza. Watching an old movie. Anywhere but here.  
  
"I hated everything except some twisted comic book that I found one day. Something written on the first page has stuck with me. It said that for every force of good that exists, an equally strong power of evil must exist. Think about it. Your father was the match for our mother. Dixon is battling Sloane. And now Agent Vaughn has Lauren. You? Well, you were born and a force had to be created to match you."  
  
"And you're saying that's you?"  
  
"But of course. Neither of us seems to be able to get an upper hand in this battle of ours. Don't you wonder if there is some deeper reason why? It's the fates keeping us in balance."  
  
"Stop talking, Sark. I'm trying to figure a way out of here."  
  
She heard the biting sound of metal on metal and she guessed Sark had pulled his arms up. "How do you plan on getting out of the chains?"  
  
~  
  
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What do you think? Please read and review! 


	3. Almost as good as Sydney

Disclaimers: I still don't own anything Alias.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Eric enjoyed being CIA more than anything. But it was always an added perk when the job started paying him back. He had checked with eight of his contacts, turning up nothing, already and was now waiting at a bar for a ninth. Antoinette Montague. Definitely the second most gorgeous spy on the planet after Sydney.  
  
"Bonjour, stranger," came a thick accented voice from behind him. "Oh, 'ow I 'ave missed 'oo, 'Airic."  
  
Eric hopped up from his bar stool and turned to his long time friend. The girl was elegant. Her long black hair fell in long curls down her back and her eyes were the most piercing green. She complemented her tan skin with a soft, chocolate brown sweater and brown slacks.  
  
"Oh, 'Airic, if only 'oo were looking me over to ask me out."  
  
Eric felt his cheeks redden as he pointed to a booth near the back of the building. She led the way and the two were soon sitting on the same side of the booth, keeping an eye on the occupants of the restaurant.  
  
"I 'ave a feeling 'oo are 'ere to talk business."  
  
He signed and began in a low voice. "You're right, Monte. I have a friend who disappeared early yesterday. I was hoping you would know something about it."  
  
After Eric gave her all the information he knew he said a quick prayer that she would have the information he needed. Intently, he studied her face like a good spy should and smiled as she pursed her lips and wrinkled her forehead.  
  
"I might know something," she said with a sigh. "And this... Sydney is 'oo you want?" After she watched him nod, slowly, she continued, "I might 'ave 'eard Jean-Pierre talking tonight as 'e fell asleep. Apparently, 'e and 'is men captured an English and American spy. 'E 'ad them taken to our villa. If we 'urry, we can beat the truck there by taking the rail."  
  
Eric smiled, grabbed her hand and headed for the door. "Well then, let's ''urry' and catch that train!"  
  
&~*~&~*  
  
Being a defected agent inside an Underlord's faction had its perks. Antoinette had her own private train and crew that could whisk her off to anywhere she wanted to go. For the past hour, Eric had enjoyed the comforts of a plush cabin seat and a bottled water as he listened to Antoinette talk to random, powerful people on the phone. She had just finished a call in German and was now speaking fluent Russian. She was almost as good as Sydney. Almost.  
  
Eric's initial surge of adrenaline was wearing down but the sudden realization that he had no plan to take on the thugs when he arrived at the villa brought on a new wave of energy. Antoinette ended her phone call and enjoyed a long sip of her soda while she watched Eric's frown deepen.  
  
"What's wrong," she asked in a thick, Californian accent.  
  
It was enough to bring Eric out of his deep thought and smile. "Monte, how many men did you say would be there? Thirty-some-odd?" She nodded and he continued, "Syd's the one who can fight off a million guys without breaking a sweat. Not me."  
  
"Eric, you will be fine. 'Oo 'ave me."  
  
~*~&~*~  
  
The villa was silhouetted against the rising sun as the train pulled onto the private track. Money bought anything apparently. When the train finally stopped, Eric hurried to the garage where Antoinette had promised the van would pull in at any moment. All he had to do was wait for her diversion and whisk Sydney and Sark back onto the train. The workers on board only worked for Monte, thank goodness.  
  
The garage was empty, except for the menagerie of automobiles, one of which offered perfect sights for the empty space the truck would occupy.  
  
It had felt like an eternity until the main garage door slowly glided up and a black van entered.  
  
"Black? You'd think they could be original," Eric muttered under his breath as two overgrown Neanderthals hopped out of the cab. "Come on, Monte, please don't double-cross me."  
  
Finally, the side door opened, and the confident clicking of high heels echoed through the room. "Bonjour boy. Jean-Pierre asked that both of 'oo would take a conference call as soon as you arrived. 'Oo can call in the study. Vous vous dépêchez. Au revoir." She lingered just long enough to watch Eric slip out of the car and give her the thumbs up.  
  
Quickly, he hurried over to the van, grabbed the keys out of the cab and shifted to the back to unlock the doors.  
  
Before he could, however, a horrifying feeling filled his stomach. What if he opened the doors and found Sydney dead? 


	4. A nice place to cry

Sydney's gut turned as she heard the front door slam shut again. They must have gotten the keys to open the back end. She hadn't heard from Sark in a long time and was grateful for she felt she might vomit if he told her anything else. She was feeling weak from a lack of food and could sill remember the sounds of the pub that the truck had stopped at sometime ago. She tried to escape then. There was nothing she could do. The metal cuffs were situated so that she couldn't pick the locks even if she wanted to. They were too tight to think about breaking her hand to get them off and she thought she might need her hands for defense if she was lucky.  
  
Reaching out with her foot, she nudged Sark but he was far gone. Poor Sark. Poor Sydney. She had to be his sister. The key scraped in the lock and the doors flew open. Sydney's eyes couldn't adjust to the sudden brightness and she tried to throw her hands in front of her face but failed to do so.  
  
Wonderfully, though, a warm hand covered her eyes and she couldn't help but lean against it. Was someone rescuing her? Had the thugs taken pity on her?  
  
"I can't believe I get to be the hero for once and bring in the bad guy," smirked a very familiar voice that made Sydney's eyes tear up.  
  
"Eric! Am I dreaming?" She brought her hands up and touched the back of his. She felt him unlocking her feet with his free hand and then unlocking her hands. "We've gotta book it out of here, Bristow, or Jean-Pierre is going to have three super-agents in the bag."  
  
He took his hand away and moved over to unlock Sark who was very unconscious and bleeding from a gash over his right eye probably due to the glass. Sydney fought to keep her eyes open as she watched Eric grabbed Sark's arms and pull him to the edge of the cabin.  
  
"Careful, Eric. He's got some broken ribs and you could puncture his lungs."  
  
He looked up at her in disbelief and finally laughed, "What? Haven't you tried to kill him a million times? And he you?"  
  
She nodded and explained, "That was before he told me he's my brother."  
  
"And you believed him?!"  
  
"Why would he lie about that?" Sydney inquired as she looked down at her brother then back at Eric.  
  
"Fine!" He shouted as he squeezed the keys in his hand and ran back to the front of the van. "Hang on!" Eric turned the engine on and backed the vehicle violently out of the garage.  
  
Sydney braced herself against the side of the van and held Sark relatively still as Eric pulled the wheel hard to the right and spun the automobile around. She almost slid out the open doors as Weiss punched the gas but thankfully was able to use her once restraints as a safety line.  
  
They hadn't gone far when Eric slowed the vehicle down and finally stopped it. Running to the back again, he grabbed Sark under the armpits and pulled him out of the cabin and up in the train. Sydney was grateful Eric was there because she didn't think she could have helped with her tweaked arm.  
  
Once on board, Eric slammed his fist against an intercom and shouted at the conductor to get moving. Thankfully, the driver complied and the train took off immediately.  
  
After Eric placed Sark on one of the long couches, he demanded Sydney sit in one of the chairs while he went to get the first aid kit. Was he actually mad at her? No one at work had ever had the nerve to get mad at her, except for Vaughn. And of course her father.  
  
Eric came back with the box of supplies and an older man who quickly started to tend to Sark. Sydney was finding it difficult to read Weiss' emotions but she knew that anger was among them. Why?  
  
"Thanks for rescuing me, Weiss. And thanks for saving Sark. I know I'm probably being foolish and all, but look at my relationship with my mom. It's not exactly perfect either."  
  
Eric's features softened and he even offered her a smile. "True. You can't do anything normal can you?" She smiled back but quickly winced when he treated the cut on her shoulder and wrapped her arm with a bandage. "All better?"  
  
She compartmentalized her emotions and nodded.  
  
"Syd, you don't have to be super-spy with me. What you do on this train stays on the train. Come on. It's Eric."  
  
Nodding, she let the tears start and didn't show any signs of stopping. She welcomed Eric's warm hand on her back and his other on her arm. She turned her head to his shoulder and continued to weep. It had been a long mission. Made even longer with Sark's information. And she knew she had to get all of her emotions out before she had to face all the people in the office. She knew what they'd be thinking. 'Hasn't your compassion gotten you in trouble before? Why didn't you kill him?'  
  
That's what she was thinking as she fell asleep on Eric's shoulder. 


	5. I think he's putting two and two togethe...

**  
  
**  
  
Disclaimers: same apply.  
  
Sydney was asleep. More importantly, she was safe.  
  
He had let her sleep on his shoulder for awhile. When his legs and arms fell asleep from not moving, he let her curl up and sleep on the cushy couch. Work, however, needed to be done and after he enjoyed watching her smile in her sleep, he left the room to take care of business.  
  
***  
  
Quietly, Eric ended his phone call with Jack, telling him the news, and reentered the room with Sark and Sydney. It was like the difference between hockey and baseball with Sydney and Sark. How on earth could the two be related? He sat next to her feet and watched Sark across the car. How many more spy-siblings did she have out there? Were they all as evil as Julian Sark?  
  
Weiss shook his head to clear out his thoughts. Life was certainly different from just a few days ago for him. Sydney was thankfully with him again and they could go back to late night pizza and she completely oblivious to how much he loved her. Maybe she'd ask him to help her install a new this or move that. Whatever it would be, he would do it in a heartbeat for her.  
  
Sark cleared his throat, groaned, and finally opened his eyes to Eric who had to clench his fists to keep from jumping across the space to strangle him. Eric finally tipped his head to the side and smirked at Sark. Mind games were fun. Sark blinked. He blinked again. Finally he choked out, "I assume that since I'm not shackled to a wall that I have you to thank. And seeing as how I'm not in CIA custody, you must have come in search for Sydney on your own."  
  
"Yet," Eric corrected. "You're not in CIA custody yet." Weiss sighed, exasperated, and grabbed the aspirin bottle and a glass of water from the table. "Here. You're ribs must be killing."  
  
Thankfully, Sark took the medicine. "As a spy, I know we shouldn't show pain, but they do hurt like being hit by a latajang. And I shouldn't show appreciation, but thank you."  
  
"You must have a concussion Sark. You're not talking like yourself."  
  
"People keep telling me that."  
  
Eric sat back down next to Sydney and studied her sleeping form. 'Man she's gorgeous. Why can't you love me back?' Eric thought before turning back to the table to a debrief he was fabricating to explain why Sark was making the return trip with them. If the Agency knew that Sydney was completing operations without the government knowing, she and Jack could be in serious trouble. He would have to meet with Dixon and Jack at the airport when they arrived back in Los Angeles to establish a cover.  
  
"Tell me, Agent Weiss, why did you do it?" Eric turned to Sark and feigned interest but didn't answer. "I assume from your lack of an answer that you have a deeply emotional response that I wouldn't care about anyway. So let me just ask: why didn't her sweetheart come to her rescue? Is he still trying to get over the betrayal?"  
  
Eric felt terrible for Vaughn. Losing Syd, falling in love with a traitor, finding out the truth, he had done all but gone crazy over the past couple of years. Eric's stomach fell. What if Vaughn found out how much Eric loved Sydney? It didn't matter. Sydney would never love him back.  
  
"What was that Agent Weiss?" Eric looked back at Sark and tried to figure out what on earth he was talking about. "That look on your face? If I'm not mistaken, you might l--."  
  
"Shut up, Sark. Go back to sleep and don't bother me."  
  
"Whatever you say, Agent Weiss."  
  
Sydney sighed and opened her eyes, "wha'cha up to?"  
  
"Talking to the wisecrack over there. Be careful, he's off his rocker."  
  
The fog cleared from Sydney's eyes and she seemed to realize that Sark was with them. Slowly, she turned her gaze to her brother and squinted while surveying him.  
  
Eric noticed that her usually tough exterior seemed to be missing when she studied Sark. Weiss almost laughed when he looked at Sark and saw that his head was lobbing around as if he were drunker than drunk.  
  
"I'm going to get the doctor to examine the bobble-head over there. Do you want anything Bristow?"  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
**  
  
**  
  
Note: The latajang is a weapon that Sark and Sydney fight with in "The Solution," episode 1.20. It's a stick that has a curved blade on each end and I imagine it would really hurt if you were struck by one!  
  
The sibling comment was, of course, about Sydney's sister Nadia Santos. I'm so excited about this plot line!  
  
Let me know what you think. I need feedback! 


	6. The joys of chapstick

Please start giving me feed back! I have to know what to do to improve. As for this chapter, phew, I had to figure something out. I hope it's interesting.  
  
Thank you to my reviewers. It's hard to write something without feedback and I really appreciate your thoughts.  
  
As for the title, the meaning will come up in a few chapters, but for now, in Shakespearian theatres, there was a fake roof over the stage and above this roof was a hut.  
  
~~~~  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
What a lie. She was talking to her committable brother- her brother!- and had just woken from a dream kiss with a truly wonderful man who shouldn't be back in her dreams at all. The kiss she thoroughly enjoyed in her dreams seemed all too real and she worried that she wanted to kiss him more. She could even think what it would feel like with his chapstick on her lips. The kind with stuff in it that made her lips tingle a bit.  
  
Maybe it was the memory of receiving such a kiss that made her lips tingle.  
  
"Agent Bristow? Are you still with me or did you hit your head as well?" Sark struggled to sit up, but finally opted to rest his head on the top edge of the couch back.  
  
She focused back on Sark, pulling herself out of her daydream. "I always wanted a brother."  
  
"It's a shame it's wasted on me then."  
  
She chuckled softly and responded thoughtfully, "well, I've always treated you like a sibling. I keep beating the crap out of you. I want to kill you. That sounds like a brother to me."  
  
"Hilarious, Agent Bristow. You have obviously been hanging out with Agent Weiss for too long." Sark studied Sydney and smirked. "There's that look again."  
  
"What are you rambling about this time?"  
  
Sark squinted his eyes and pursed his lips, "you should know, a spy hardly ever reveals the truth."  
  
That was a fact that Sydney had fought with for what seemed like an eternity.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Thankfully the doctor gave Sark a sedative which kept him knocked out for the remainder of the train ride, the transfer to the private jet Jack had set up, and the majority of the plane ride. Eric was working hard with the deposition he had to write to explain Sark so Sydney had lots of time to think. Too much time.  
  
She thought about the kiss. A lot. About how much her life was screwed up but there was always that one man who had been there. Even when they couldn't be because of... technicalities.  
  
*~*~*  
  
There was never a more beautiful sight to Sydney than seeing the American flags flying high at the airport when she arrived home. Eric put a comforting hand on her shoulder and guided her toward a conference room inside the terminal, Sark close in tow.  
  
She left Eric's side to hide in the comfort of her father's arms. Growing up, she hadn't realized how wonderfully comforting a hug from her father could be. Now, she never wanted to stop hugging him. But, Dixon cleared his throat and began to speak with Eric about the debrief. Sark sat quietly in the corner of the room, handcuffed to a chair and still a bit dazed from the preceding days' events.  
  
"Alright, Weiss. We received the preliminaries of your report and it's good. If you only wrote the real things so well."  
  
"What do we have, Weiss?" Jack's manner was cool and distant, as if he hadn't ever talked with Eric before. As if he hadn't asked him to save his daughter.  
  
Clearing his throat, Eric pulled out a photograph of a group of men and showed it to Jack and Sydney. "The man in the center is Yegor Gurov; known Versteckt de Organisatie Thamâniya leader. VO8 is so evil even the Alliance wouldn't tango with them. The name is a compilation of words from each of the main founder's languages: German, Dutch and Arabic. Gurov killed them and took over operations.  
  
"The mission: we received intel. from one of my contacts who had intercepted a message from Gurov to her husband and passed it along to Sydney and me. Due to the need to protect her identity, the four of us discussed an operation that would take care of the situation."  
  
"What was the intel?"  
  
"That Gurov had obtained a Rambaldi artifact." Eric paused and licked his upper lip. Frankly, the Rambaldi line was getting old to him, but it took care of the obscure. "The Vessel. It's a useless parchment that Black Hole has so the story will fit."  
  
"Why's that? Won't they know they still have it?" Sydney didn't understand the looks that the three men offered but finally the clouds cleared. "They don't still have it, do they?"  
  
"Your father and Director Dixon took care of it this morning. As for Sark, he received the same information from a similar source and we captured him."  
  
"What about Sark? All he'll have to do is say differently and our story will be blown."  
  
Sark cleared his throat and everyone looked at him. "While that may be true, who would believe me against the four of you? And, if we cut a deal, I'll keep quiet."  
  
"Sark, we don't deal with vile men."  
  
"You haven't heard my plan."  
  
~*~*~  
  
They left the room with Sark surrounded. His plan was absurd but Sydney didn't care about it. She just wanted to get home, take a well deserved shower, and sleep. Her lip was killing her from a small split from the fight and she added take pain killers to her list of things to do.  
  
"Are you doing all right?"  
  
Eric was figuring her out easier these days and she wondered if she'd let her guard down too much with him.  
  
"I could really use some chapstick."  
  
"Here," he said, handing her his, "I promise I don't have cuties, Bristow."  
  
Chuckling, she covered her dry lips and enjoyed the tingle that the chapstick gave them.  
  
~*~  
  
~*~  
  
Okay, so what do you think? Finals are wreaking havoc on me so sorry for the delay of this chapter. It should be smooth sailing from here on out! 


	7. What interrogations really uncover

  
  
So sorry that it took so long to post this. Life has been hectic. Please let me know your thoughts, ideas, anything. Hope summer is well. Until next time. Oh, and this is off the main time-line from before she found out about her sister. 

&&

Life was back to normal or at least the normalcy that Eric was accustomed to. Sark now occupied the cell that his mother once did and everyone dismissed how they obtained him for the fact that they had him in custody.  
  
Eric didn't really understand why Sark was willing to chill out in CIA custody, but Weiss felt that if he was given the chance to relax in the safety of the US government, he might take it.  
  
Sark had refused to talk to anyone except for Sydney and Weiss so that's where Eric had spent most of his time for the past few days. All the while, he smiled to himself when someone patted him on the back for either saving Syd or finding Sark. It was a good feeling to be in the spotlight for once.  
  
The interviews with Sark were usually ridiculously boring. Sark's plan had involved feeding endless strings of useless information to the Agency because he had intel that someone working for the CIA and for the Covenant was feeding information to the VO8 and it would look extremely good for his record as the American Cell Leader to find the mole.  
  
Eric stood from their latest meeting, straightened his tie, and sighed thankful that the interrogation was over. Sark had been explaining the importance of a bunker he used in Spain which Eric knew to be a cover. Fortunately, Sark ran out of things to talk about and Eric was a free man to go to lunch.  
  
"I'm sorry, Agent Weiss, about the bullet you caught with your neck." The simple comment stopped Eric dead in the hallway.  
  
Quietly, Eric replied, "Well, you know, there's nothing like laying around all day on a paid vacation. Besides, it was Derevko that shot me." He turned to Sark and rocked his head, a habit he had picked up after being shot to make sure it was still attached. Even with the thought of death, he could make a joke.  
  
Sark pursed his lips and nodded. "Thank you, Agent Weiss. You're the only one in this office that's spoken more than two kind words to me."  
  
"Well, I guess I just pulled the short straw. Now if you'll excuse me, I've gotta debrief."  
  
"With Sydney?"  
  
"What's it to you?" Eric questioned back with more emotion than he should have shown.  
  
"I've seen the way you look at my sister."  
  
"First of all, I'm more of her brother than you are and second, it really creeps everyone out when you say that so why don't you stop it?"  
  
"The truth always hurts, Agent Weiss. And about you being her brother, well let's just say that if you were to give your sister looks like that you would be in the cell along with me."  
  
"I'm not here to play mind games with you, Sark."  
  
"Strike a nerve, did I?"  
  
Eric wished that the glass partition would crash on Sark so he could get to him and beat the crap out of him.  
  
"Weiss, we need you in the meeting." Michael. What a gift for coming in at the wrong time. Eric would have loved to finish the conversation but couldn't risk Vaughn finding out.  
  
"Alright, I'm going."  
  
Watching Eric's fleeting back, Michael steeled his nerve against what he was about to do. He turned to Sark.  
  
"Your wife is something, Agent Vaughn."  
  
"Ex-wife."  
  
"If that makes you feel better. Considering you were fooled from day one, I don't blame you for trying to separate all ties with the woman."  
  
Michael locked his jaw and turned to leave. "How does the man who you wish to be your father-in-law treat you now? My step father as it is. Jack Bristow. Think about it. You are the same as he. Both in love with someone- you namely Sydney- both fooled by someone else into a marriage, both betrayed out of your mind. Of course you are the lucky one, aren't you? You got out before it went too far. Or has it gone too far? Do you think you still have a chance with my sister? It's twisted but I can sense how she truly feels about you. About others. Good luck winning her heart back. She's had all this time to get over you. Do you think you can rekindle her love?"  
  
Michael walked over to the glass partition and slammed his hand against it. "You know nothing about love! And you know even less about Sydney! She loves me and always will!"  
  
"Oh, and she told you that?"  
  
"Yes," he hissed through clinched teeth.  
  
Storming off, Michael tried to ignore Sark's snickering. But someone else didn't. Someone had heard everything said.  
  
So it was true. All of it. It had been so easy to deny the pit of the stomach feelings but the truth from someone else was irrefutable. It was going to change everything. It always did.  
  
Did she still love Vaughn? What about her feelings for Eric? Did she love him? Did she even care about him? The eavesdropper knew that she needed to know the truth and fast and that was the only certainty on the table.

&&  
  
So? Who should the eavesdropper be? Syd? Weiss? Jack? Marshall? Please share!


	8. 2 point 5 kids make an average home

A lovely little chapter for summer. I kind of forget about this fic so sorry for the delay. Same as always: the characters aren't mine.

Jack turned the volume down on the monitor he had been watching and shook his head. So Sark knew the truth about Jack's love before Irina. It broke Jack's heart all over again to remember what he had done to Antoinette but that was the past. Now, he had to make sure the truth was cut off at its knees from Sydney. The truth about his real connection with Antoinette.  
  
But it was too late. She had seen it all from the monitor in Marshall's office. Seen the exchange between Michael and Sark. But that was the farthest thing from her mind. She had seen the exchange between Eric and Sark and that's all she could think about.  
  
"Syd!" She turned to the conference room to see Eric beckoning her to the meeting.  
  
Vaughn came storming out of the cell hallway in a downright rage. He pushed past Eric, taking a seat at the end of the table and Sydney followed behind him, smiling slightly at Weiss before wandering to the other side of the room. She realized that her heart was flip-flopping more than usual for debrief and it wasn't because of the excitement of the mission. And much to her surprise, it wasn't even Vaughn. It was because of her growing feelings for Weiss.  
  
When had that happened?  
  
Maybe it was when he'd helped her move her bed last week. Or when he rushed over to her house when he didn't get her by phone. Maybe she had always liked him but their paths never crossed right. If he had been her handler instead of Vaughn, would it have been them to hook up? Would he have waited for her after she went missing?  
  
Vaughn would always be in her heart. She knew that. But loving someone and being in love with someone weren't the same thing. A lump formed in her throat at the realization that her feelings had changed for Vaughn. He was different. She had changed. The new Sydney and the new Vaughn didn't fit as well together.  
  
She sank into her chair, unable to breathe and unable to look at anyone in the room. Thinking about her father and Vaughn's unnerving connection made her shutter for some reason. And she desperately wanted to know who her father had been in love with but couldn't look at him for giving herself away.  
  
She was more than aware of Eric as he sat down in front of her. Eye contact wouldn't be good until she figured out her heart.  
  
No one was left. Luckily, Marshal came in.  
  
"Hey everyone. How's it, uh, how is everyone--- doing this morning?"  
  
The men offered half-hearted grumbles, but Sydney welcomed his question. "Hey Marshall. How're Carrie and Mitchell doing?"  
  
"Great! He didn't scream bloody murder last night."  
  
"Oh, that is good news! He is turning out so adorable."  
  
"Thanks, thank you. I think he'll be quite the looker. Hey, you never know, if you have a daughter in the near future, they could date. Have you thought about it?"  
  
"Our kids dating?"  
  
"No, you having kids."  
  
Sydney felt the intense heat of three extra pairs of eyes on her as she muttered an 'I don't know' and shuffled through the papers in front of her.  
  
Thankfully, Dixon came in and order fell over the room. "Good morning. Our time is brief, so I will be. We have an operative in danger in Rio de Janeiro and we need you to go and extract her. She desperately needs out. Sydney, I'm sending you and Weiss to get her back. Weiss' contacts will be great help for this mission. Marshall, run op tech. Jack, you'll be running things from the van. Let's bring her back people."  
  
Weiss was on the mission. For some reason, Sydney's heart was beating faster again. That wasn't a good sign. Soon she found herself sitting in a cushy, government issued airplane seat next to a joke-cracking Weiss. Weiss. He was sweet and kind, had his fair share of mystery, could definitely make her laugh but more importantly knew how to make her smile. Sydney realized she didn't know much about him. She knew he had- sisters?- was an economics major, spoke Spanish, but anyone could know that by looking at his records. Silence fell over the cabin and Sydney realized that Weiss was staring at her.  
  
"Syd, where are you? You're a million miles away."  
  
"Eric, do you have any siblings?"  
  
A puzzled expression covered his face. "Uh, yeah. I have a sister back in Washington. She works as a reporter on Capitol Hill. Why?"  
  
"I don't know. I just felt like asking. Having Sark around's gotten me to thinking."  
  
"'Bout what?"  
  
"Wondering if there's any normalcy left in the world."  
  
"Well then, I'll introduce you to Quinn. She's as normal as you can be. Happy marriage, quaint little house, 2.5 kids. Well, two kids and a dog, but normalcy is what she's all about. I'm looking forward to living like that one day."  
  
Sydney offered him a half smile as she went back to studying the mission specifics. Eric was unlike anyone she had ever had close in her life. He wasn't a spotlighter, he wasn't a glory-hog, or an arrogant imbecile. He had never tried to kill her or second-guess her like the Francie clone or Will. Personal vendettas weren't his style like Vaughn had recently taken a liking to. Laidback wasn't the term for him. Eric was special. He knew how to take control or be a safety net. A laugh was always guaranteed when Sydney was down and he always made her feel beautiful. Yeah, Eric was different. And that's why she loved him. That's why she was in love with him.


	9. Searching for the shoe without a match

Sorry, I realize that fanfics aren't the best place for filler, but I love it. I tried to keep it to a minimum and I hope you enjoy.

Rio de Janeiro...

Sark's plan was bouncing around in Sydney's head again. Whenever she wasn't focused on the mission she was thinking about what he'd said.

"It's very simple, Agents Bristow, Weiss, and Dixon. I have information I'm willing to share, as well as information to keep from others if you will help me. My request is small, quite easy for such accomplished agents as you."

"Flattery's not your strong suit. On with it."

"You have a choice. Bring me Yegor Gurov's daughter, Bridgette, or my mother. Either way, you'll come out ahead. For that, I'll stay quiet."

_Focus Sydney_. Okay, so the plan wasn't too out there but they were making deals with Sark of all people. Of course his plan was deeper than that but Sydney had taken to boiling down everything he said into as few words as possible. Thinking of him was like reflecting favorably on a never-ending toothache. The world had been up-ended. But she couldn't think about that now. She was in mission mode.

She straightened her grey jacket and flattened her hair with her right hand. Eric was the picture of confidence in his jet black suit and ruby silk shirt. They had to look, feel, be the part of powerful black market dealers and they did. Missions were always easier when their covers were nothing like the spies' actual personality. Their cover: Sydney and Eric equaled a powerful, deeply in love, married couple, in search for a company to do business with. Their power came from the strength they gave each other. Unfortunately, it hit a little too close to home for Sydney. Additionally, the operative in trouble was working undercover for a man she absolutely hated in an office that was hidden deep underground as part of a stock brokerage firm. And, as always, the building was completely in sight yet completely hidden.

The company was a money laundering sight for most of the VO8's finances- nothing to do with espionage yet still just as dangerous. The operative in trouble, known now as Charlotte Soulier, had one mission: to track all actions of the organization. But the information that was supposed to be hush-hush was somehow getting to government officials and the mole was being hunted down.

"Sydney, are you ready for this?" Jack was stationed in the driver's seat and somehow always seemed to figure out when her mind wasn't in the game.

"Yeah."

"Hey, of course she is. No worries mate," Eric's cover was a classy yet flashy socialite from England who always spoke his mind and infuriated almost everyone he met. He said he'd have no troubles with the cover since he'd met the real version of the character now locked up in a cell. "Syd's our girl. She'll get it done."

Even with his alias's cocky accent, Eric didn't sound at all convinced of his declaration. But she couldn't worry about his doubts as well as her own. Worries get people in trouble. Fears get people killed. She needed to study something steady. Something focused. She watched her dad in the rearview mirror and felt her nerves calm a bit. Jack was a rock in her spy world and was helping her through each day more and more. He believed in her and that made her believe she could do anything.

Jack slowed the car at the guard stand, got clearance, and delivered them to the doors. The mission was definitely on.

Eric helped Sydney out of the car and wrapped his arm around her waist like it was the most natural thing to do. That fact didn't calm the eagles dive-bombing Sydney's insides.

"Hey, love, are you all right?"

Taking a deep breath, she glanced around for security watching them before speaking. "When we get home, I think we need to talk."

She thought that she felt his arm muscles tighten against her back but he nonchalantly said okay and opened the reflective glass door for her. The entrance was simply decorated and almost seemed inviting to anyone who wandered in through the front doors. Two receptionists were busy behind the counter as were three security guards patrolling the long hallways and open area that Sydney and Eric were now a part of.

Sydney addressed the older receptionist, hoping to find a sweet spirit. "'Cuse me dear, we have a meeting with Monsieur de Meirelles and we wish not to make him wait any longer."

The hag wasn't as accommodating as Syd had hoped for she immediately waved over a security guard who occupied their time as the lady called someone. Maybe it was common to them. It was certainly common to her but it always made her nervous to think that someone would find one of Marshall's gadgets.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, so sorry for all the fuss but I assure you that safety is our number one goal. It's not everyday that we get a request such as yours." The man with the thick Brazilian accent was extremely well dressed and groomed. He definitely had his fingers on the money running through the building.

Clearing his throat, Eric responded in a disgusted tone as he straightened his coat, "that's not what Olga tells me."

Nervously, de Meirelles cleared his throat and shifted his weight. "Of course. How is Sra. Preto?"

"She'd wonder what's taking so blessed long, I'm sure." Sydney always loved when her alias had a little kick to them and Afton Hughes definitely had spunk. "Do let us speed this along. Everett and I wish to spend some time on your enchanting Copacabana Beach."

"Understandable, Sra. Hughes. Follow me, please."

As the three headed down the far right hallway, Sydney adjusted her glasses as she studied all aspects of the interior.

_Marshall excitedly scooted around the desk and showed Eric and Syd the glasses in his hands. "__Everyday, ordinary, run-of-the-mill yet oh so fashionable glasses, right? Wrong. See the bridge? There's a tiny dart hidden right in the, uh, center. See? Well, no, because you shouldn't be able to see it 'cause it'd give you away. Now, the building you're going to runs the security, fire, lights, you name it, off of the same system. It's nice and easy for them, seemingly secure, but it's not. It's easy for us to break into. All you have to do, Syd, is fire the dart toward something like a fire detector and boom; we loaded straight in their mainframe. Pretty cool, hunh?" _

Ushering them into a plush office, a stark contrast to the lobby, de Meirelles excused himself and closed the door behind him; a tactic to give him control of the situation.

"Really, Everett, we should consider changing our occupation. Money laundering really seems to bring in a pound or two."

"Yeah, it's just the conversion rate you must look out for. Thank you Affy, but I think I'll stick with our operation." It was all just chatter. They knew the office had bugs everywhere and that de Meirelles was watching them for any mistakes while he scanned them and checked their backgrounds.

"Freelancer, I've located the operative. She's two floors down in the south wing." Jack was, as always, all business.

"Brilliant," Sydney breathed as the door swung open again.

"A thousand apologies for the wait, but I had to tend to something." Swiftly, de Meirelles took his seat behind the desk and steepled his fingers.

Sydney smiled, "speaking of tending to something, where's the loo?" Moments later, she was on her way to saving Charlotte.

"Okay, freelancer, the coast is clear and the surveillance tapes are looped." Stealthfully, she entered the stairwell and descended the steps to sub-level two. "Clear." After pulling the door open and surveying the hallway, she hugged the wall and hurried to the room where the operative was being detained.

"_Now Syd, after you do your little get away move, which, by the way, you do so well, you'll need this. It looks like a plain, boring security pass, right? Well, don't touch the front and back of the card at the same time. Because, if you do, you'll be out, like passed out, for awhile, or, at least, I think a while. I didn't exactly look at my watch when I woke up. But, you didn't need to know that, did you? That's fine, but the guard will be out. Out cold."_

The guard at the door was slacking off. Sydney was already next to him before he realized she was there.

"Desculpe-me, senhor. Tento de achar o lugar de cópia?"

"Onde é seua folga?" Handing him Marshall's card by the edges, she stepped back a few feet as he slumped to the ground. Pulling off his key ring, she quickly had the door open and was releasing the captive agent. "I'm Sydney. I'm getting you out of here."

"Bridgette."

The next few chapters should come quickly and be great. Sorry if my Portuguese is a tad off. Please, let me know what you think!


	10. It wasn't their first kiss

Apparently, the last chapter didn't meet anyone's expectation. This one has a little more action and a lot more feelings. As mentioned, this is alternate universe so Jack is good, Lauren's still around and all the wonderful characters belong to Abrams and ABC.

"Okay, Freelancer, I'm bypassing the fire doors... now. I'm located at the south entrance of the alley behind the building."

Pushing the panic bar on the door to the outside of the building, Sydney readjusted Bridgette's arm on her shoulder and scanned for the familiar white service van. Luckily, the alleyway wasn't that long for Bridgette was getting heavy and Syd wanted to get back inside to help get Eric out to safety as well. The guard, still slumped on the floor when they'd hurried past, would be waking soon if not found sooner, and it wasn't easy to help the battered agent up the steps. But, it was amazing what could be done with the power of adrenaline which Sydney was now using to assist Bridgette to the van.

Jack slid the backdoor open and helped the bruised agent climb into the vehicle. "I'll meet you back out front in a few minutes. Syd? Be careful. I don't trust this guy."

Offering a sly grin, Sydney waved goodbye to her father and hurried back to the doorway she had passed through. The coast clear, she hurried back down the hallway to de Meirelles' office and rapped quickly on the door.

"Sydney! Don't!"

...but it was too late to heed her dad's warning. She opened the door to find a swarm of men standing around a heap on the floor. Regrettably, the mound was poor Eric, struggling to stand but only managing to get to his knees. His face discolored from developing bruises, he grimaced as he pressed his hand against his ribs and tried to stand again.

"What's—?"

"It would be best if you kept your lying mouth shut. Especially for your friend here. I don't know who you are working for but don't worry, you won't be working for them much longer."

Wonderful. How exactly had this happened?

_Twenty minutes earlier..._

Eric flicked a green leaf on a nearby plant and looked at his watch. Sydney had just left and hopefully would find "Charlotte" before it was too late. What she had said earlier about needing to talk to him was weighing heavily on his mind. _What was it?_ Knowing his luck, she was probably going to tell him she was madly in love with Michael again.

"Ah, Senhor Hughes, your wife is very beautiful."

"Tell me about it, mate. She's my true love. Always has been."

"Wonderful for you. Unfortunately, I have some bad news, 'mate.'" Pressing a button on his desk, he called in a group of men that made Pro Wrestlers look like schoolboys. "Olga Preto isn't the friend you thought her to be. It seems her loyalties lie with the side with the most power. She said you'd be dropping by."

Clearing his throat, Eric recalled de Meirelles' reaction to Olga's name. It wasn't so much a nervous shuffle but a move to hide his excitement about knowing something they didn't. "Oh. That's interesting."

"Not going to confess to me? Well, maybe you'll talk to my friends."

And that's how he found himself on the floor of the plush office wishing he was a million other places. He fell on his side and looked up at Sydney. "Hiya, love. The boys here were just trying to get a discount on some cars. What do you think we should do?"

The men grabbed agents Weiss and Bristow roughly and pushed them into the hallway. Sydney didn't dare do anything with Eric in the state he was in: he was using a thug as a crutch for the moment. This was definitely not good. Yes, she had been in worst situations but for some reason none of those came to mind at the moment.

Miraculously, Sydney found herself in the back of a an enemy's van for the second time in a week, leaning up against Eric, with guns pointed at her head. _How were they going to get out of this?_

"Everett, are you okay?" Their cover was paper thin but still intact and that was probably the only thing keeping them alive. "Where are they taking us?"

"I don't know, love. I'm so sorry I've gotten you into this."

Eric must have felt responsible for their current situation. His breathing was short and ragged when he put forth any effort such as grabbing hold of Sydney's hand. His hand was surprising warm, given the current level of fear that they were both dealing with and she liked holding his hand.

"Everett, don't talk like that. We'll get out of this." Sydney studied their captors and specifically the one sitting in the passenger seat. He was talking on a cell phone and it wasn't sounding good for the spies.

"It appears that Charlotte Soulier has gone missing. So, it seems we've traded one bad agent for two."

"What are you talking about, mate? We just wanted to trade some goods with your employer. What's all this nonsense about agents?"

But his questions went unanswered. The words had no sooner left his mouth than the van took a jarring hit from an outside force. The guards tried to find support to strengthen their fight but the van took another hit, spilling everyone onto the floor. Another blow ripped open the back doors revealing the trusty surveillance van driven by Jack following closely behind theirs.

"Syd, get out of here!" Eric looked panicked as he held her face between his hands. It was the first time he had ever showed his emotions for her openly.

"We're both getting out of here!" She tugged on his arm and his look of concern turned to a grimace. "Come on, Eric!"

"I can't. There's no way I could make it. Go! Only you can get me back! Use my contacts, anything. I know you can do it!" Pulling her head towards him, he pressed his mouth hard against hers and then pushed her towards the back of the van. She stared back at him, stunned for a moment from a cloudy memory, and offered a soft smile as she hung out the back to reach over to the white service van. A thug reached out and grabbed her arm but Eric reacted faster than she and punched the guy squarely in the jaw.

Jack took his cue after she clambered into the back of his vehicle and veered off the road, out of traffic.

"Dad! We have to go after him!" Sydney was out of breath and she was yelling her demands to her father. Bridgette was huddled in a ball against the other side of the van, seemingly out of it.

"Sydney, we have to be practical here. I know we should never leave an agent behind but he's as good as dead."

"So was I, dad. But you didn't give up! Neither did he and neither will I! Please, please do this for me."

Well? Please review!


	11. How does one pick a password?

OK, I've had a horrible week. Absolutely terrible. Please, send me some love and tell me what you think.

"Syd, we have no idea where they've taken him. We have no idea where to even start."

Sydney flipped open the organizer Eric had slipped into her hand before she left him. It was a government issued model, simple yet capable of holding any agent's innermost thoughts. The only problem: there was a password.

Speed-dial nine brought up Marshall back in L.A. "Marshall! What is Eric's organizer password?"

"Syd? Of course this is Syd. Password, what do you need his password for?"

"Marshall, I don't have time to explain! What is it?"

"Well, we don't actually have it on file."

"Well, crack it!"

"I can't from here, Syd. I'd need it to be hooked up to a modem and then, maybe."

Frustrated, Sydney threw her phone down and started thinking of possibly passwords. She tried "yo-yo," "pizza," "burgers," "protocol," "superagent," "wisecrack," (and even weisscrack) "joke," "laughter," but nothing was working. An hour quickly passed with no progress. It was harder than trying to find a grain of green sand on the beach.

"Come on, Eric. Please, what is your password?" She was hoping that by some miracle she would somehow be channeled the answer.

"Sydney, have you ever thought that you're not supposed to see what's in there?" Jack had climbed out of the driver's seat and was tending to a cut on Bridgette's leg. "Agent Weiss may have things on there that he doesn't want you to see."

"Dad, I know everything. I think. That statement's a loaded gun in our profession."

She couldn't lose him now. Too much had happened to let something like this keep them apart. The missing two years from her life had been taken from them both. "Sydney." _Incorrect_. "Bristow." _Incorrect._

And the shot he took to the neck, from her mother no less, almost permanently severed all possibilities for them. "Painintheneck." _Incorrect_. It was too long. Eric was a man of few words when it mattered. The password would be more personable. "Superman." _Incorrect_. Something funny yet oh-so-true. "Bulletproof." _Loading personal settings_.

"Leave it to you Eric," she laughed softly as she smiled at her father who returned to the front seat.

Jack started the van at Sydney's request and drove toward the downtown area where the vehicle with Eric was headed.

Scanning through the phonebook, she looked for the only VO8 contact she knew that Eric had. Considering she didn't have any, she thanked her lucky stars for Eric's one contact that knew Gurov.

"Antoinette Montague?" Sydney braced herself as Jack swerved the van. Probably something in the road. "Antoinette, it's Sydney Bristow. I need your help. They've taken Eric. We're in Rio. Where could they have taken him?"

"Sydney? What is wrong with 'Airic? Que vous a-t-il fait dit que votre nom est? Your name is Bristow?"

"What does that matter? Please, you have to help me find Eric! He's going to die."

Taping sounds filtered through the phone line before Antoinette spoke again. "Sydney, the only location mentioned is in my 'usband's financial records: a theater located downtown. A Aranha.

"Thank you, Antoinette."

"Save 'im, Sydney. 'Airic's life is in your 'ands. Don't make the same mistakes others 'ave made before 'oo. 'E needs you. You need 'im. Bonne chance."

Disconnecting the call, Sydney wondered who the older woman could be referring to, and added it to her list of things to ponder later when Eric was back safe and they were talking on her couch eating a half-and-half pizza.

Jack seemed to know where the theater was and quickly directed the vehicle in that direction. Studying him, she realized that he was different. Although most of his emotions looked the same on the outside, she could tell that his usually cool manner was icier than usual.

"Sydney? What's going on?" Sydney had completely forgotten about Bridgette sitting behind her. Turning her attention to the other agent, she realized how beaten the poor girl was and it sent chills down her spine to think Eric was being treated the same way. The woman was almost too good looking to be an undercover agent. Curly, auburn tresses hanging down her back and emerald green eyes were two of her finer qualities.

"My partner is missing. We're going after him."

"I'm so sorry. It's all my fault that he's..." she trailed off and looked down at the metal floor. "Where are we going?"

"A theater downtown. A Aranha."

Horror covered Bridgette's face, "we can't go there. They'll kill me if they see me!"

"Don't worry. We won't let de Meirelles' men get to you."

"I'm not worried about them. It's my father's men."

"What?"

"My father is Yegor Gurov!"


	12. Sometimes, a dad can become a super spyd...

Disclaimers: same apply. Love Alias; don't own it.

"Bridgette? No, Sark pronounced it _Brigitte. _Of course. "Bridgette, do you know Julian Sark?"

Bridgette smiled a bit and nodded.

"I don't believe it! Is everyone connected in the spy world? It doesn't matter. We need to get Eric back! I'm sorry if it doesn't convenience you but I'm getting him back. We don't leave people behind."

Nodding her understanding, she went to the computer bank and accessed a server with a special code. "These are the feeds from the security cameras in A Aranha. If Eric's in there, we'll find him."

"Thank you, Bridgette. I promise to take you to Sark when we get Eric back."

"Is he okay? I haven't heard from him for the longest time. Wait; you're Sark's sister, aren't you? He used to talk about you. About mind games he'd play on you."

"That's... interesting. Dad, please drive faster."

"Sydney, where you are going, it's not exactly a theater you may be use to." Bridgette shifted her weight onto her other hip before explaining her comment. "My father doesn't exactly follow what 99.9 percent of the population consider normal. Remember, he's an extremely hateful man."

Sydney's gaze followed Bridgette's pointed finger to the screens that showed all sorts of torturous acts being committed.

"It used to be a beautiful place where old Shakespearian plays were performed. But, Gurov didn't like a show once and bought the place out. Now, he buys off a certain cop or politician to keep the federales away from the place."

"Wonderful. Do you have any idea where they might have taken Eric?"

"I have no idea. If he's not on one of the feeds, your guess is as good as mine. But I do know that Gurov will grant favors of "questioning" anyone for any person with enough money. It's your only hope."

Sydney kept her eyes on the monitor as she pulled a duffle bag from the cabinet under the computers. The bag contained an extra alias just in case she ever needed one. Regretfully, she needed it.

_Please be alive, please be alive._ She had been chanting the same thing over and over again in her head for the past five minutes. It was silly, she knew, but it helped keep her focused as she walked down the block next to her father. He nodded to her as she entered an access code to the front doors and opened the door to the building, Jack entering the theater after her.

Immediately, all of her senses were assaulted and she thought she would suffocate. Hard rock music blasted out of the speakers and competing strobe lights sent her into a trance. Added to that, the air felt thick and clammy. _Eric. Eric should be at home listening to hard rock, _at_ a decent volume, kicked back on his couch. You need to get him there. _That was her focusas she studied the doorways of rooms where all sorts of interrogations were going on. They knew from the monitors that Eric wasn't in any of those rooms.

She kept telling herself not to make direct eye contact with any of the men who had been at the office earlier or any of the camera monitors. Simple, right? Tucking a strand of jet black hair behind her ear, she watched as a man walked down the short hallway toward them, expecting at any time that he would recognize her and call in some "interrogators."

"How did you get access to this building?" He asked, roughly grabbing her by the upper arm.

"Christophe Leak thought that we might be able to do some business together. He divulged the information to me." Jack was always all business and Sydney was finding out had more secrets then she cared to know about.

"Ah, Christophe. How is the old louse?"

"Dead, as you know." A test, of course, and Jack never lost his cool and never got the answers wrong in such situations.

"Yes, I do."

Sydney finally spoke, ripping her arm away from his grasp, "all well and good, gentleman, but are we going to stand here all day and reminisce or are we going to go somewhere and discuss the business at hand?"

Clearing his throat, the man ushered them down the hallway to a staircase that edged the side of the stage that at one time held some of the most beautiful plays of all time. Sydney couldn't help remembering the _Tempest_ or _A Mid Summer's Night Dream_ from her college days and what it would be like to see them performed on that very stage.

They entered a large office to the right of the landing and waited for the man to close the door before acting.

Jack quickly jabbed a needle into the man's neck, depositing the sedative quickly into his bloodstream. The goon crumpled to the ground before he could react and Jack left him for Sydney to tie up while he went to the computer.

Gaining the password was much easier on the computer than Eric's organizer and Jack was searching through the files before Sydney was done tying up the man.

"Come look at this," he ordered. She obliged and found that Jack had pulled up building plans which she studied intently. "There appears to be four rooms up here and half a dozen downstairs. We know from the feeds that there are only two men downstairs but upstairs is unclear. Good luck."

Sydney hurried to the door and looked carefully around the corner and thought the praises of her dad. Sometimes, he really came through. Focusing, she found the coast clear, she hurried to the back of the building and started there. Empty. Two down, and since Jack was in one, one to go. The door across from the office her dad was in was closed. Taking a deep breath, she slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open.

The room was dark. Damp. And the only light, because she couldn't find a switch, came from the hall behind her. The space seemed cluttered and deep for she couldn't determine how far away the opposite wall was. They wouldn't have brought him here. She turned to leave but something made her turn back. There, at the far reaches of the light path was something that intrigued her. Inching closer, she realized it was foot!

She hurried towards it, but as she passed the objects she once thought were boxes, her stomach sank as she realized what the horrific object were. A shutter rocked her body at the memory of the mental institution she had spent too long in and she knew she needed to get Eric out of there. Upon reaching the body, Sydney glanced behind her to make sure no one was there.

It was too dark; she couldn't see who the person was. "Eric?" she whispered as she pulled out a glow stick and cracked it. There was no response. Stepping closer, she reached for his hand. Cold. Icy cold and stiffening. Shaking, she raised her hand closer to the face. The eerie, soft green light distorted the facial features but Sydney could still see the face.

Fiercely, she bit down on her lips to keep any sound from escaping.

Well? Okay, the next chapter is my favorite!! Sorry it took so long to get this up. I've been dealing with some... issues. Hope all is well!


	13. Above this roof was a hut

Okay, as promised, my favorite chapter. It's a lot longer than the other chapters because it's chocked full of great things. Let me know what you think please!!!

&

A mannequin. Dress in an Elizabethan costume, the poor thing must have been kept around for literal kicks and giggles. Sydney swallowed a laugh and filed it away to tell Eric later.

She hurried out of the room and back down the stair case, turning her earpiece on. "Dad, I'm going downstairs."

"Be advised, two unfriendlies to your left."

Sydney nodded, and headed for the stage, the only area not covered by the cameras downstairs. Throwing curtains around and checking the dressing rooms, Sydney was turning everything up empty.

Finding the access stairs to the basement, she quickly checked that off the list of possible places.

"Dad, he's not here! I've checked every room. We've come to the wrong place. And my mistake's probably gotten him killed!"

"Sydney, now is not the time to dissolve into hysteria. Are you sure you checked every room?"

"I'm sure! You're looking at the building schematics. Bridgette is watching all the feeds for downstairs. There are no more rooms. He's not here. He's dead. He's dead!"

"Sydney! Look out!" Bridgette was yelling in her ear from the van, telling her that something was happening on the feeds.

Sydney turned to see a man running towards her, furry contorting his face. Acting quickly, she coiled her legs as he stepped within reach and swiped his legs with her left leg. He went down hard but kicked at her, connecting with her ribs. Her breath left her but she quickly recovered and reached for a broom behind her on the stage. Twirling it over her head, she beckoned the man to his feet with her other hand. Concurring, he hopped up and lunged towards her. But she was too quick. The broom handle came down quick and furiously on his head, splintering quickly. He was out.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. No! I don't know. I need some answers."

"Sydney, wait. There's something here that I missed. The wall to one of the rooms is a double reinforced brick wall. I seem to recall that old Shakespearian theaters' have a special room located over the stage, hidden from view, that allowed for supernatural events. See if that room is on the other side of that wall."

Searching the man, she found a flashlight and a set of keys which she quickly deposited into her own pocket. Scaling the steps two in a stride, she reached the landing in no time but, this occasion, instead of going right to where her father was, she turned left to where the "mannequin" room was. She crashed into the space now, toppling a coat rack behind the door. Rapidly, she turned the flashlight beam to every corner of the room, locating the light switch she had missed as well as a door on the left wall, the one closest to the stage.

"Dad, I found it!" But, in her haste, the explosion of the door and coat rack alerted the guards in the hidden room to her presence. Four men, each equaling twice the size of Sydney, came to greet her. There went her element of surprise.

The problem with men whose living comes from dealing with others that are tied to a chair? They get hung up on each other when dealing with someone not easily put into submission.

Sydney quickly dealt with the first while the second and third untangled themselves from each other. But, unfortunately, they figured it out and were swarming her rapidly.

_What am I going to do?_ There wasn't enough room to maneuver around well and nothing to use against them like a broom so she had to fight with no assistance. But she had a good reason to fight. Eric.

She connected with the ribs of one while throwing her flashlight at another. Unfortunately, before too long, they were getting the best of her and she quickly was losing consciousness as a hand clamped down on her throat. Her tongue felt like it was growing in her head as she choked for breath. And then there was this sound, as if her eardrums had quickly deflated. But she could hear still and the hand around her throat loosened and let go.

The other two men were slumped on the floor, the third quickly joining them, and the figure in the doorway held a tranq. gun level with the ground.

"Dad!"

"Sydney, hurry! I have a feeling we'll be getting some company soon."

She nodded and dashed across the room to the hidden door. Her breath caught in her throat as she entered and saw a figure tied to a chair, facing the other way. It was him. His scruffy, brown hair. His broad shoulders. It was definitely Eric.

Running over to him, she crumpled to her knees by his side and took him in. Blood oozed down his face all over and, what wasn't swollen, was bruised and cut. Running her hand through his hair, his head listed away from her but then there was the smallest amount of resistance.

Moaning, he dropped his head backwards but decided there was less pain to keep his chin against his chest. Sydney quickly untied his feet and uncuffed his hands with the key she had borrowed and cupped the side of his face with her hand.

"Eric?" She whispered, not wanted to hurt him anymore than what he was. He lifted his eyebrows and then his eyes opened, ever so slightly.

"Syd?"

"Yeah. It's me. Listen, we've gotta get you out of here."

Opening his eyes fully, he turned his head slightly and drank her in as if he'd been in the desert for years. "Am I dreaming? How did you find me?"

"No. And I'll explain later. Come on Eric, let's get you home." Gingerly, she lifted his left arm over her head and around her shoulders. Slowly, they stood, Eric not too sure of his footing at first but finally making headway.

She wasn't sure how he was moving at all. His adrenaline tapped from the day's events and suffering from two beatings (and heavens knew what else), the man had to be getting help from some unseen force.

"Hey, that's an interesting password you've got."

"What can I say? I'm a firm believer in stating the truth."

"Is that so? I'll have to remember that for later."

When they entered the mannequin room, they found Jack positioned by the doorjamb, keeping watch on the hall. Seeing Eric's condition, he surprised both younger agents by coming to Eric's aid while Sydney took the lead downstairs. Thankfully, the last guard unaccounted for was still preoccupied and the three CIA agents made it safely outside to the van. Sydney hopped into the back after Bridgette opened the door for her and helped Eric climb in.

As Jack hurried around to the driver's seat, Sydney rested against the van wall and tried to loosen her neck muscles as best she could. Pulling her left knee close to her chest, she stretched her right leg out to the side to keep her leg muscles relaxed.

Eric was slumped over, trying to stop his lip from bleeding and keep his head on his neck with his other hand. Grasping his upper arm to get his attention, she locked her eyes with his, trying to assure him that everything would be okay. He frowned, as best he could, and shifted his weight to become more comfortable which turned his back to her a bit. He was sitting only inches away yet still miles from her. She tapped him on the shoulder, held out her arms, and motioned for him to lean back against her which he quickly agreed to. Wrapping her arms around him, it made it perfect for him to place his head back on her shoulder. He dropped his arm around her knee and hugged it to his side.

Turning his face towards hers he whispered, "Are you sure I'm not dreaming?"

"Yes."

Grasping her hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. "I don't know what butterfly flapped its wings to put you in my life, but I sure am thankful." And, with that, he passed out.

The butterfly effect. What better explanation for their life than the basic idea of chaos? Sydney pointed to the first aid kit which Bridgette opened and handed to her as she scooted over next to them.

"Sydney, I'm—."

"Please don't say anything." Angrily, Sydney ripped open a package of sterile gaze and tended to the cuts of Eric's face. A bad gash over his left eye looked as if it would need a stitch or two and his lips were badly split down the right side.

"Please don't be mad at me."

"Why would I be mad at you?" But it suddenly clicked in her head. "Oh, Bridgette, this isn't your fault. We went in unprepared and Weiss is suffering the consequences. That's all. Please don't mention it again."

Bridgette handed Sydney a strip of tape and nodded. "This man is very lucky that you love him, Agent Bristow."

_Lucky? Is this what a lucky man looks like when she loves him? What had she gotten him into?_

_&_

Well, the idea for this story came from reading a Shakespeare play that explained there was a secret hut above the roof of the stage that allowed for the heavens to be a part of the production. That's where the title came from. Only one or two chapters to go.


	14. I don't want to dance anymore

Thank you to my reviewers... you guys really make my day. As usual, I don't own theses characters or the idea of Alias. I'm just trying to make it 'til next season.

&

They had been home for a week and she hadn't seen Eric once. The hospital claimed that he wasn't allowed to have visitors but Sydney had a nagging feeling that Eric was the one dictating if he had visitors or not, namely her. Why didn't he want to see her?

She needed someone to talk to. Joke with. It had torn her up inside to watch Sark and Bridgette reunite, even if it was through the glass partition, and she needed to release some of her emotions to someone. Bridgette loved Sark, even with all his faults, and was there for him. And as much as that affected her, what blew her mind even more was when Antoinette walked in to headquarters.

_The sun was bright, reflecting harshly off the office's shiny floor early Wednesday morning. Sydney was leaning over some paperwork she was supposed to be working on when she heard the confident clicking of heels echoing down the hallway. Naturally, her curiosity forced her to look and she was shocked to see who the figure was entering the room. Sydney owed the older woman her life and was going to repay her any way she could but, first, she was going to give her a hug. _

_She started over to her and the older woman smiled as she recognized her. _

"_Bonjour, Sydney. How is 'Airic?"_

"_Managing, I think. Things are kind of weird there."_

"_Oh. I se--." Antoinette became teary eyed as she watched something behind Sydney. "Jonathan," she breathed out and Sydney knew exactly who Antoinette saw. _

_The swerves in the car, the apprehension at hearing Antoinette's name. She was the one Jack had loved before Irina and Sydney would venture a guess that Jack still had feelings for Antoinette.. _

_Jack looked up at that moment and all the hard years of spying melted from his face and he genuinely smiled._

"_Jonathan!" She rushed over to him and dissolved into his arms. _

When Sydney wasn't torn up about Sark's, or her father's, happiness, she was worrying about what she'd tell Vaughn about her new feelings. Fortunately, he had been on a mission since they got home and was still in the dark. Sydney was still in the dark. What did she expect with Eric?

It was a question she had on her mind when she was supposed to be working, running, eating, sleeping. She was thinking about it as she left the office late Friday night, ready to spend another weekend at home alone. Maybe it was for the best. It seemed like those that she held closest to her heart were always getting hurt. At least, that's what she had decided as she entered her dark house, pizza in hand from the corner restaurant due to the tradition she had started with Eric that she just couldn't break. Fumbling around, she turned on the lights, dropping her keys in the process. It was nights like this that she missed Francie. Francie always left a light on for her no matter how mad she was at Sydney. She really missed Will. For, as much as Francie knew about her, Will knew all about her.

"Stop it, Sydney. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You chose this life: the good and the bad."

Compartmentalizing her emotions, she grabbed a slice of pizza and turned on the radio to an eighties station. Distractions only, but it's what helped get her through the day sometimes. She needed to make some friends. Female friends. Considering between the only two friends she had, both men, one wasn't talking to her and one wouldn't be before too long after he found out what was going on.

The doorbell rang pulling her out of her misery spiral. Finally, something to occupy her mind. Scurrying to the door, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and threw the pizza slice back in the box. For some reason, she held her breath as she unlocked and opened the door and discovered who was visiting her.

There he was. His boyish good looks, his scruffy hair, his sleepy expression. Everything that she'd grown to love. But, she realized she wasn't in love with him. That was the problem.

"Hey. I just got home and saw your light was on. I've been doing a lot of thinking."

"About what?"

"Us, I guess."

"Please, don't say anything else. I don't want either of us to get hurt."

He studied her. He followed every contour of her face, every stray strand of hair, every freckle.

"Somehow, I knew I had lost. With everything that's happened, you still love him."

She wasn't shocked. But she was definitely relieved.

"Yeah. I do. I just didn't realize how much until tonight."

He leaned forward and kissed her on her cheek. Hovering by her ear, he whispered, "if he breaks your heart, I'll break his knees. Even if he is my best friend."

"Thanks. You know, you will always be in my heart."

Vaughn smiled his full-hearted half-smile, turned and left the porch.

The doorbell rang again, waking her from her daydream. She dashed to the door, still hazy from her thoughts, but this time she didn't waste a second. Absentmindedly, she opened the door.

"Hey."

Her eyes focused on him and she smiled. "Hey, you're home."

"Good as new." He took the half eaten pizza slice from her and took a bite as he entered her home. "Is it already mushroom and sausage night?"

"No. I skipped veggie night." She caught her breath as he turned and she saw his face fully in the light. He was no where near 'good as new' but it was good to see him. His face was still a little swollen and deep shades of yellow tinted his face. The gash over his eye had been stitched together and he had opted out of wearing a bandage over it. "It just seemed too healthy to have veggie supreme."

"Yeah. Pizza and healthy don't go together." He grabbed the box of pizza and walked over to the couch, depositing the box on the coffee table. Slowly, he sat down; groaning in the process, telling Sydney adrenaline wasn't fighting his pains anymore.

Joining him on the couch, she uncomfortably rubbed her hands on her knees and stared at the opposite wall. "I tried to come see you in the hospital. They wouldn't let me in."

"Yeah," he sighed, dropping his food on top of the box. "I told them not to."

"Why?" she asked, turning to him.

"Because I didn't want to feel worse than what I already did."

"Did you think I'd hurt you?"

He shrugged.

"Why?"

He shrugged again.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Of course not. But I knew you wanted to talk about something."

"And you thought it was something bad?"

"It usually is."

"Well, I wanted to talk about Vaughn."

"See, I knew it."

"Vaughn's a bad subject?"

"Isn't he?"

Sydney rubbed her hands together. "I don't know. Look, we have a friendship that I don't want to lose."

"Right. The whole 'let's just be friends' deal." Eric was frustrated. He was sick of being 'just a friend.'

"Yeah, I guess. Do you think that will be okay? Do you think he'll get upset?"

"At us being friends?"

"What?" Sydney was getting confused

"The whole friends thing."

"I don't know, Eric. That's why I'm asking."

"What?"

"Does it feel like we're dancing in circles?"

"Yes. Definitely," he agreed.

"Why is that?"

"Syd, you're a great spy and you're good about talking around the subject. So what are you talking about?"

"Vaughn and me being friends. Do you think he'll be okay with that?"

"This is about you and Mike? Look, would you shut up about Vaughn? I'm officially sick of this 'dance.' I don't want to talk about him anymore. While I do love him like a brother, I love you so much more. And I'm tired of being the one taking chances for someone who obviously doesn't care for me. I don't care if you and Vaughn are friends now that Lauren in gone. Good for you! I sick of having feelings for you and having to deal with Vaughn's feelings for you too. And I fought back my own emotions when you went missing to be there for Mike. Then, I bit my tongue when he moved on because I knew he was wrong. But I guess I was."

He stood and walked over to the door. "He might have thought he lost you to death. But I lost you to your love for him. I'm tired of being the one always knocking on your door. I'm just... tired." Quietly, he exited the house, the door closing softly behind him.

&

Weiss's soapbox moment. Next chapter is the last so enjoy!


	15. a new hero

The magical force that seemed to be keeping Sydney's tongue still wore off and she dissolved into sobs. _How had everything gone so wrong?_ She felt just like she had when she came back to find Vaughn married and she had to watch him be happy. Watch him with Lauren. It was how her life seemed to be going recently. Being captured at the bank, facing her death, and then finding out that Sark was her brother. Her world had gone mad around her and she was letting it happen. And it was twisting her up inside so much that she could hardly breathe.

Why had things gone so horribly wrong with Eric? It was her track record with guys that was her biggest problem. First Danny, then killing Noah in that fight, Will getting stuck in witness protection, and Vaughn. Every guy she had ever loved had ended up hurt... or dead. Eric was right; she would have hurt him if she came to visit him in the hospital.

_No Sydney. This time, it's different._

Eric wasn't like the other guys in her life. He wasn't as serious, or something, to let something bad happen. There was something there that she couldn't figure out and that's what she liked about him. She hadn't figured him out yet. And why was that? Because she hadn't bothered to. Maybe she was afraid to but she didn't know: she hadn't been afraid of anything for the longest time.

The fog seemed to clear in her mind. She hadn't been afraid because she hadn't bothered to try for anything.

If Eric was tired, Sydney was sick of not taking action.

Grabbing her keys, she ran out the door after Eric. She spotted him halfway down the block under the orangey glow of a streetlight. His hands shoved into his pockets, he seemed in no hurry to go anywhere yet determined to put as much distance between himself and her house. Vaulting down her porch steps, she ran through the yard, closing the distance between them to a few yards.

"I don't want to hurt you!" She called to him, causing him to stop and turn.

"What makes you think you would hurt me?"

"Because of Da--, well because of the other guys I've dated. They haven't fared too well."

"And you think that'll happen to me? You don't put much faith in me. Or us."

"No. That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?"

"I don't know."

He smiled and nodded, "that's okay. You somehow have the same affect on me. So, are you putting me on the same level as... those other guys?"

She scrunched her face in thought. "No. I think I want you on a whole different shelf. You're special."

"That's right. And it's about time someone realized that fact. I'm sick of playing second fiddle and it's time something good starts happening for me. And that sompun' good is you."

"Is that so, Agent Weiss? Look Eric, this is going to be difficult."

"Yeah, I'm up for the challenge. Come here." He held out his arms, stepped closer, and wrapped them around her. "Now see, this is the perfect start."

Eric was sure in his love for her; more than anything else in his life. Images of taking her to meet his family, strolls in the park, and long talks together filled his mind. He couldn't help it. Sydney had turned him into a romantic.

&&&

He leaned closer to the steering wheel, resting his chin on his forearms, and watched the two people obviously falling in love with each other. Did he expect anything less from them? For them? She hadn't had anyone to love her for so long and Eric had loved her forever. It was just natural for them to find each other.

It was rough seeing her happy, knowing she had moved on. But it was time for her to. She deserved to be happy and it was apparent that Eric obviously made her happy.

Was he mad at them? No. He was mad at himself. He had been foolish to think that she would wait for him; he had given her no reason to hope that they could end up together. Had he expected her to wait for him forever? Yes. The truth was, he thought she would have always waited for him. But he wasn't mad that she had moved on. He was mad at himself because he had long ago.

He had always loved how she made his heart stop with just a smile. But, those smiles were no longer his. However, his heart did leap when she came running out of her house, thinking that she had seen him pull up.

His best friend could give the girl he loved so much what he couldn't. And she deserved to have that gift because of who she was. Even his friend deserved to be happy. No, his friend especially deserved to be happy. It was Eric's time to be the hero.

&&&

"Eric, you need to go home and get some sleep. It's been a crazy week and we need to talk about a lot of things. But I think we should do that in the morning."

"Maybe you're right," he whispered before lowering his head to kiss her. It was a sweet kiss. It wasn't like their last when he thought he would never see her again. It wasn't like their first when he couldn't help but kiss her as she slept on the train. It was their very first real kiss and he loved it. But, regretfully, he had to pull away quickly. Running his tongue over his bottom lip, he felt the split that was slowly healing. "Yeah, let's talk in the morning."

Taking her hand, he walked her back to her door. Tomorrow had so many promises with it and he was looking forward to every single one. Stealing one last kiss on the cheek, he let her pass into her house but made her turn back to face him.

"I'm not dreaming am I?"

"No."

"I definitely have to find that butterfly and thank it."

"Go home and get some sleep."

&&&

Full of his thoughts, he smiled his half smile and started the car. Tomorrow was going to be rough. And the next day and the next. But he was going to make the effort and love both of his friends as best he could. Nodding in agreement, he slowly drove off leaving the two happy people alone.

&&&

Eric turned to the sound of the passing car. "What was that?"

"I think it was his blessing."

Eric nodded his understanding, kissed her softly, and offered a smile before stepping off of her porch to go home. The whirlwind of his life that had started with the heart-stopping news that Sydney was missing, had ended with another heart-stopping feeling which he preferred far more than the other. Sleep was the last thing on his mind as he walked the short distance down the street to his house. It was the greatest night of his life and for once things had worked out for him.

Eric deserved the spotlight for once, and got it.

the end.


End file.
